


Dancing

by aislingthebard



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, PWP, straight up smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7820443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingthebard/pseuds/aislingthebard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pwp with Josephine and Esme enjoying some private time after a dance</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing

They'd danced for hours.

Esme felt drunk on the music, the laughing, and Josephine's kisses. Ever so often, she'd press her lips onto hers, pull her a bit closer than was necessary, and she felt warmth spreading through the layers of their clothing. She laughed and giggled like a fair maiden of old and the sound and sight made Esme's heart clench. It had to be a dream. She, an outcast Qunari mage, dancing with the most beautiful woman in the whole room, if not world. Her whole life felt like a naive and romantic dream. Especially now that they had defeated Corypheus and those, who came after him. Celebrating life and love seemed to the only choice.

Josephine had led her through the awkward steps and circles, holding her hand for the whole time, and they did have quite the audience. All of them Antivian nobility or famous traders, even a well known pirate captain, who enjoyed watching a happy couple dance.

The night had ended too soon, but there were alone now, and that was almost as good as the dancing. 

The Montilyet estate offered plenty of rooms and Josephine and she slept in spacious quarters, which granted a view of the sea and the scent of salt. Esme opened the buttons of her uniform jacket and let it slid to the floor. She still wasn't used to wearing dresses and always chose outfits, which came with pants, because she could move in them without tripping over a hem, or behaving like a complete fool. She surely didn't want to embarrass Josephine or her family, who so gracefully accepted her in their midst. 

Antiva was especially warm in the summer months and the heat lingered in the stones, clinging to every surface and body. Being half-naked felt like a relief and they'd opened the doors to the large balcony, so the mild breeze would made sleeping bearable. 

Josephine wore a silken shift and Esme could see the outlines of her lover's body, her hips and thighs, the curve of her breasts, the slender neck. Josephine's hair spilled freely down her shoulders and a flush darkened her cheeks. She'd enjoyed this evening as much as Esme and candlelight illuminated both of them.

There had never been a sight so lovely and she would never tire of it.

“Is something wrong, my love?” Josephine brushed out her hair and fought against the various tangles. She'd worn it in deliberate braids for most of the day and it seemed even wavier than usual and shining. Her one was far easier to take care of, being much shorter and not nearly as thick and often worn a simple bun.

Esme opened the binding of her shirt, without stopping looking at Josephine. “No... I just admired your beauty.”

A coy smile crossed her features. “Oh? Tell me more about it.”

She bowed deeply. “You're a vision. A sign that the Maker is real and an inspiration for a hundred of poems.” And even said poems would never capture the real beauty and charm of Josephine. 

“Sweet talker.” 

Josephine kissed her then, standing on her tiptoes and gently urging her into the direction of their shared bed. There was a bit of stumbling and the awkward undressing, because her trousers didn't want to come off, while Josephine seemed already very naked and waiting for her to join. And it was hard to make her hands act like she wanted them to, when she was trying not to stare to openly at Josephine's bared skin.

Their joined weight made the bed squeak. 

Esme straddled her, pressing her thighs against her hips. There was still enough room for her to move, slide lower, if necessary. A year ago, she'd have felt self conscious of every imperfection, the hard edges of her limbs, the small breasts, her many scars, earned in the life of a mercenary. Josephine had kissed every single one and caressed the knotted and twisted flesh. They didn't scare or disgust her.

“What are you waiting for?” Josephine bit her lip.

“Just enjoying the sight a bit longer.” She should probably spent the rest of her days, watching Josephine move and wriggle beneath her. Even her little scowl seemed enchanting and delightful.

“My patience knows bounds.”

“I know.” Her patience was running thin, too. 

Esme felt Josephine's body reacting to every small touch. Fingers and tongue tracing the outlines of shoulders and neck, drawing small circles and unseen lines. Their kisses tasted of wine and she felt her pulse beneath her lips. Her heart was beginning to beat faster and she could hear her blood rushing. She was so soft and small and Esme tried to not put her whole weight on her lover, because she was always afraid of crushing her. Josephine put a hand on her neck and pulled her closer though. After all, she was stronger than she looked and much more demanding between the sheets.

By now, they knew each other well, had spent many nights together and it still baffled her mind, how good it felt. Sensitive flesh rubbing against is each other, every touch sending small jolts through her whole body. For a while, there moved in union, pressing their bodies together, trying to cover as much skin as possible. 

Josephine arched her back, as Esme put her hand between her legs, feeling the wetness already pooling there. She stroked her slick sex, putting some pressure on the clit and making her moan with every move. A musky scent filled her nostrils, as she pressed her face against Josephine's stomach, kissing a trail upwards. Short nails bit into her back, as she licked the small scar, which sat atop of Josephine's navel. It was a particularly sensitive spot and told a tale of tragedy and deceit. Now it made her moan. 

She tasted of honey and cinnamon, which were her preferred scents, and which she always used in her bathing oils and in the scents she wore.

Esme could feel her own thighs starting to get wet and the warmth spreading trough her stomach. 

“You're so beautiful.” Her voice sound husky and Josephine held her eyes close, concentration clearly not enough for talking, instead she hummed quietly, 

“Hmmmm.”

Josephine's breasts were heavy and waiting to be touched and kissed. Esme put her mouth on one plumb nipple and sucked, earning her a small, sweet whimper. It hardened beneath her lips and she lifted her other breast and closed her lips around it. The moans became louder, more incoherent. Her breath quickened, as did her strokes and kisses.

She felt Josephine come beneath her. 

Her whole body tense and back arched. She rode through the waves of pleasure, pressing herself even harder against Esme's hand, breasts bouncing in the same rhythm as the rest of her body. The tips of Esme's fingers prickled and she was so close herself. All it needed was another touch, maybe even a kiss. Watching Josephine losing all sense of modesty seemed almost enough to push her over the edge. 

She leaned closer and kissed the corner of her mouth.

“I love you.” Josephine tried to catch her breath and whispered against Esme's mouth. 

“Your turn.”


End file.
